


A Retinue of Moons

by 1candyangle



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Multi, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-17 10:58:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3526724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1candyangle/pseuds/1candyangle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regretting all the choices that led Stiles to be in a burning shack, his best friend using his werewolf body to protect him, Stiles makes a wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clipped

  
There is nothing like the heat of things burning all around with no escape and no breathable air left. In the ten minutes since they’ve been trapped in the shack, the inferno has pushed Scott as far back into the magic circle as he is allowed. Stiles is pinned between him and the ground, as low as they can go, with Scott desperately trying to protect his friend like a fire blanket. The heat has melted both of their shoes, and Scott can feel his shirt starting to catch alight too.

  
Stiles is coughing, his shirt covering his mouth to try and keep the smoke out. He groans something unintelligible, his worried eyes looking at the pain on Scott’s face. There is no way out, they are going to burn to death and leave charred bodies for Derek and the others to find and mourn over, he thinks. This sucks. Top ten worst moment of his life.

  
Scott moves closer as the flames burn his skin, bracketing Stiles on all sides, protectively pulling Stiles’ head close to his chest, his heart.

  
Stiles is getting tired, woozy. It is hard to breath now and all he can concentrate on is the frantic heartbeat in his ears. He glances down at his body, and his eyes catch on the bracelet he found in his attic. The Polish stitched into the leather translated says: “Think of better times and make a wish.”

  
Listening to Scott’s heart as he burned so Stiles wouldn’t have to, all Stiles could think is: I wish Scott never turned into a werewolf.

  
Everything stops.

  
\---

  
Stiles is sitting in the library of the rebuilt Hale house, reading an old manuscript. It is the middle of a hot mid-July day, so all the windows are thrown open to let in the scent and breeze of the preserve flow through the house. His werewolf hearing keeps him aware of the other members of the pack as they do various things during the lazy Sunday day.

Isaac, Erica and Boyd are on the south side of the building as they run and tackle each other. Derek is with them, barking orders and commenting on the quality of their forms as they train. Allison is at the work bench, hand whittling a specialty bow in the room next to him. It is nice day to be together, and Stiles feels safe with his pack around him.

  
Up until the moment when the feeling hits.

  
Even though he is sitting down, he loses his balance. Werewolf reflexes do nothing to curb the sudden feeling of dizziness. His vision wobbles and the room spins. Stile crashes to the floor with a pained howl, as the feeling intensifies. Everything is moving like a boat on open ocean.

  
The library is rushed as the wolves and Allison sprint into the room, claws and bows drawn in his defense. Derek crouches next to him, asking him what’s wrong and all Stiles can do is try to keep his lunch.

  
As sudden as it happened, it stops.

  
Stiles takes deep breaths, recovering. He is on his hands and knees next to his seat, his book thrown to the ground next to him. Derek is stroking his back, his neck, trying to comfort him.

  
“What was that?!”

  
“I have no idea,” Stiles pants. “Felt really, horribly dizzy for a second there. It’s gone now…”

  
Derek growled at the answer. “Call Deaton. That isn’t normal.”

  
Erica already had her phone out, ready to connect with the vet when Stiles’ next deep breath caught a scent of blood and smoke from the breeze. The wolves all looked towards the window as one.

  
They tried to make him stay up in the library, but Stiles insists he is fine. Together, the pack follows the scent, Allison trailing with her bow. A few feet away from the front porch is the source.

  
There are two people on the lawn on top of each other, unconscious. The smell of fire clings to their clothes; the shirt of the boy on top is burnt through. Stiles gags at the sight of muscle, bone and blisters shown.

  
But it is the face of Scott, his dead best friend – the one he failed and led to his death that causes him to nearly pass out. Horrifyingly, especially when even partially hidden by Scott’s body on top, he can see his own face on the second person.

  
It’s a good thing the pack is there as the panic hits and he begins wolfing out.

  
\---

  
Stiles wakes up, sore and thirsty – and alive. The fire is gone, the shack is gone and he is alive. He cries when he spots Scott passed out on his stomach on a thin, ragged cot. Scott’s back is a mess of angry red blisters and black scorched skin, some bone and muscle exposed, his burned shirt sticking grossly in a melted mess. Stiles moves over closer to his alpha as fast as he can and crouches over Scott. He can see the skin slowly looking less swollen, but it is at a snail’s pace compared to what he’s seen the werewolf’s body do to cuts and broken bones.

  
Since poking at a sleeping werewolf in pain is the quickest way to be eviscerated and slow healing is still healing, Stile turns his attention to the dark room around him with a cough. The floor is a hard concrete, with three walls of the same material and the fourth wall made of pure iron bars with a heavy door. There are thick chains and cuffs attached to the walls, a drain in the corner and dark stains matting the whole area which Stiles isn’t even going to think about what those are from.

  
He gets up from his position and starts running his hands over the walls, looking for any holes or cracks. Stiles glances up and away from the corner of the room, trying to act like he hadn’t noticed the tiny camera filming his every move. Pushing against the rods of the door, and feeling around the hinges proved that whoever made this dungeon knew what they were doing. The perfect place to keep a werewolf.

  
He coughs again, his lungs working to breathe properly. A hard grunt of pain came from Scott on the cot as he starts waking up at the noise.

  
“Stiles?” Scott said as he pushed himself up into a sitting position with a wince. Scott looks around the cell, confused. “What happened? Last I remember was… well, burning. You okay?”

  
“I’m not suffocating to death, so yeah, I’m okay. I’m not sure how we got here at all. But seeing as this place isn’t on fire, I’m going to say it is a step up from our previous situation until proven otherwise.”

  
Stiles sighed and moved to sit next to Scott. They were stuck here, where ever that is. Scott starts pulling off his crispy shirt, and it keeps getting caught against what was left of his skin.

  
“Gross dude, just rip it off or something and let me take a look.” Stiles gags when his full back is exposed, but the skin is still knitting back together. Blood and puss started to push through, but it was looking less of a 3rd degree and more 2nd as the minutes passed by. There is nothing around to treat it, except time.

  
They sit in silence, leaning against each other as they try to process the sudden change in scenery. Ten minutes pass by before Scott looks up towards the cell entrance way. The smell of food and a strangely familiar scent slowly seeped towards them while footsteps could be heard. It’s not long before Stiles looks up too and Sheriff Stilinsky in his uniform appears in front of them holding a bag of fast food burgers.

  
“Dad!” Stiles cries out in relief as he gets to his feet and rushes over to the bars. “Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt in all this mess did you? Where is everyone else, are they okay? You better not have had any of that crap food, hand it over! Also, why did you put us here-“

  
Scott pauses for half a second before his instincts launch him off the cot to drag Stiles back away from his dad. Stiles looks at Scott, eyebrows turned in.

  
“Stiles, he doesn’t smell right. It’s like your dad, but not.” Scott whispers earnestly, shooting wary looks at the Sheriff imposter.

  
The Sheriff's expression is a rainbow mix of emotions as he gazes at Scott. He finally settles on frowning at them and saying, “I’m the father of Stiles Stilinsky. I’m not hurt, no one else I know is hurt, and I can eat fries whenever I want. You are in here until Dr. Deaton comes over and takes a look at you both. Now, here’s some food and drinks to tie you over until he gets here.” He says this all stiffly, but his heartbeat is steady and true.

  
The Sheriff moves closer to the two boys and puts his hand holding the bag of food in the cell expectantly. Stiles and Scott look at each other before Stiles moves close to the bars again. He grabs the bag of food from the Sheriff warily, and spins around quickly to open it under Scott’s nose.

  
“Sniff test!”

  
Scott laughs, breaking the tension. “It smells like just burgers you jerk.” He grabs one of the burgers and starts to eat.

  
Stile grabs the other and with his mouth partially full, he gestures around to the Sheriff standing there. “Really Scott, you are more suspicious of my dad than the food? What the hell, man – he is the one who brought it! Speaking of which, Dad, where the hell are we? I’ve never seen this place before.”

  
“We are on the Hale property.” The Sheriff's eyebrows have a sad downturn as he watches Scott eat, and he leans forward onto the bars separating them absentmindedly. He is still frowning as hard as he was when he first came down.

  
“Huh… wait, what!? Since when does Derek have this awesome dungeon of captivity? Dude’s been holding out on us.” Stiles leans to the side against the bars in reach of the Sheriff. One hand is shoving fries into his mouth while the other fiddles against the iron casually.

  
Scott sends Stiles a look while the Sheriff's full attention is on Scott, and quickly Stiles’ hand shoots through the bars and snaps open the Sheriff's gun holster. Within seconds the gun itself is in Stiles’ hand as he shoves himself off the bars and away from arm distance.

  
The Sheriff spins to react in time, but he is left standing there with one hand on the empty holster, eyes wide in complete and utter shocked. “Shit.”

  
“Dude.” Stiles looks at the Sheriff aghast. “I can’t believe that worked. “ He sends a worried look Scott’s way, moving further towards the back of the cell, gun held firmly but not pointing at anyone. “You are definitely not my dad. If he locked me up for any reason, he wouldn’t have been so careless. What the fuck is going on here?!”

  
The next thing they knew, a door could be heard slamming open and multiple footsteps headed their way. The camera feed must have alerted the watchers to Stiles’ theft, he thinks. Scott moves half in front of Stiles.

  
Stiles nearly dropped the gun in shock when he sees the people rushing in front of the cell. It’s not until he hears the strangled sound of pain that comes from Scott that the panic begins to set in.

  
“…Allison?”

  
Scott stares in shock at the people who are now standing next to the imposter Sheriff. There is Allison, his first love, looking older than when he last saw her. Pointing a bow and arrow right at his heart, but he can forgive her for that as long as she doesn’t shoot. Next to her is Derek, on the brink of wolfing out, eyes alpha red. Behind him are three familiar betas, two that died a long time ago, standing there fully wolfed out.

  
And there is a Stiles on the other side of the bars, with golden beta werewolf eyes shining as he pulls the shocked Sheriff behind him in protection.

  
They all smell familiar, but wrong on so many scents. The Stiles on the other side has hints of the same smell of the one next to him, but the fur and wolf scent dilutes the familiarity, the smell of the wrong pack – strangers.

  
Scott is pulled out of his stunned stance in front of the growling group by Stiles –his Stiles – rapidly breathing and gasping for air. Panic attack, Scott thinks.

  
“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck!” Stiles pants, “Scott, what the fuck dream is this?!” he gestures to himself, the other him, and all the copies other side.

  
Scott decides if this Allison look alike is going to shoot there is nothing he can do about it right now. First things first is to get Stiles calm. “Stiles, breathe. It’s going to be okay. Count my fingers. This isn’t a dream.” Scott moves over to his friend, careful not to crowd him, and lifts up his hands in front of his face. He wiggles each finger as he counts them, over and over again until Stiles is looking less panicked. Scott keeps half an ear out on the group watching them, but concentrates on Stiles.

  
Finally, Stiles is breathing hard but doesn’t seem to be about to pass out. He lifts his own hands in front of his face and counts his fingers, letting the gun dangle in his grip.

  
When he seems calm enough, they turn back to the people standing there.

  
“What the fuck is right,” the other Stiles says, looking at them both with hard eyes. Scott knows the face well enough to see the panic waiting to spill out of him too.

  
Allison’s imposter hasn’t moved from her stance with the arrow, but the wolves are back to their fully human form. Having the eyes of so many strange-familiar people staring at them while they are trapped in a cage has Scott’s hackles rising. Being on edge from the pain of his burns and stress-smells coming from Stiles isn’t helping his temper. He can feel his fangs start to drop.

  
The bearded man, who looks like Derek, flashes his red eyes at them. “We were going to wait until Deaton came and looked at what the hell you are before starting this but you had to go and steal that gun. “ He growled, in Derek’s voice. “Give us the gun, stop wearing those faces and explain yourselves.”

  
Scott flashes his alpha red eyes right back, and let his fangs show. “You locked us in a cage; you first.”

  
The imposter Derek hunches up and a mean growl vibrates through the room.

  
The other Stiles whines when he sees Scott’s eyes. “Oh my god, who do you think you are? Stealing my dead friend’s face, nice going asshole. Too bad Scott was never a werewolf or an alpha for that matter. You guys are going to rot in there until you change into your real forms.”

  
“Dead friend?!” Stiles flails around, gun flashing through the air. “Scott isn’t dead! Actually, there are more dead people on that side of the cell. What the hell, man…”

  
Stiles stares at Allison, the frown on her face mirroring his, even though hers is more directed at the gun. He glances around at each and every face he sees, and then he looks down at the bracelet on his wrist. The Polish stitching sits innocently on the untarnished leather. He looks at Scott, and back towards the angry and hurt expression on his look-a-likes face. He remembers being covered by Scott in the burning shack, wishing his friend would have never been lead on the path that ended up with him being burned alive.

  
“Ah fuck.”

  
Scott looks at him, recognizing the expression of guilt that flickered across Stiles’ face. “Stiles… what did you do?”

  
Stiles glances back at him, a sheepish smile on his face. He raises his wrist for Scott to see. “The translation says, think of better times and make a wish. I may or may not have made a wish when we were in the shack.”

  
“What does that mean?!” The Stiles on the other side of the bars wails at them. “You still haven’t explained a single thing.”

  
“Stiles is right. I want answers, and I want them now.” Derek crossed his arms.

  
It was at that moment when the door above could be heard opening again. Derek smirks at the noise, and the other wolves move over to let Dr. Deaton through. The vet peers between the bars in the cage, humming in contemplation. His smell is the most similar, less strange to Scott’s nose.

  
“There are a few creatures that can take the face of people.” He starts, calmly examining Scott and Stiles at a distance. “But you have too many wounds healing to hold up that magic. Any power taking Scott’s face would be dwindled away to heal the real body. The Stiles on the other hand, has no visible wounds. This is not say that he is or isn’t an imposter though. Most likely, he is human. I feel no magic at work here – at least not on the body.”

  
“I’m human.” Stiles confirms firmly. “But how many of you are? Other than my dad and Allison at this point.”

  
“Are they… them?” Scott points at the others.

  
Deaton raised an eyebrow. “I can confirm that everyone on this side of the cage is who they seem to be, but they may not be who you think they are.”

  
Scott’s face twists in confusion at the vague words. He looks to Stiles for clarity.

  
Stiles grimly smiles at him. “Parallel universe, Scott. I wished us into a universe where you never became a werewolf, wishing we weren’t… where we were.”

  
Deaton smiles. “I agree with Mr. Stilinsky, if what he says is true. I suspected something like this to be possible, but I have never seen it firsthand. Derek, do you mind opening the door so I can look?”

  
The other Stiles gapes at them. “Great, parallel universes. That is the answer we are going with to explain a wrong, human copy of me? And a risen from the dead, werewolf zombie Scott? Wishes?”

  
At the same time, Derek complies with a frown, letting Deaton in before locking the door behind him. Stiles snorts at this, but doesn’t complain. He keeps his grip tight on the gun as the vet moves closer to Scott.

  
Scott to his credit, just smiles at this other version of his boss. He looks again at Allison, at her different haircut and more mature features. Scott can easily accept this is a different reality, with the proof of an alive and older Allison right in front of him, Boyd and Erica breathing at Derek’s side.

  
Stiles and Scott share a look. They both turn away from each other and shrug and nod at the others standing there. “Crazier things have happened.”

  
Scott lets Deaton poke and prod him, but he knows he is healing and can feel the skin knitting back together without the vet’s input. Stiles doesn’t let the vet go near him, saying the only injury is to his lungs from the smoke. He does show him the wrist band, which Deaton examines with interest.

  
“Plus,” his Stiles continues, “what other explanation is there for Erica, who died at 16, Boyd, who died at 17 and Allison, who died at 18 – to all be standing in front of us, with Derek alpha?”

  
Deaton nods to himself as he stares at the leather bracelet.

  
“Dead?!” Erica exclaims, “how did I die?”

  
Boyd just stares at them.

  
“Alpha pack.” Stiles says with a small frown. This Derek flinches.

  
Allison glances at Scott. “Is that why you’ve barely taken your eyes off of me? Because I’m dead?”

  
“Yeah, that has something to do with it.” Scott smiles sadly. “You are just as beautiful as I remember.”

  
She blushes, and shoots a look at Isaac, who glowers at Scott. Stiles sends a guilty look in Scott’s direction before glowering back at Isaac. Stiles will never forgive himself for Allison’s death, but he really isn’t in the mood to deal with this love triangle again. Isaac can suck it.

  
The other Stiles just stares at Scott opened mouth. “Smooth, dude. So, you’re saying that this is Scott if the bite turned him, instead of killed him?”

  
“I died by the bite?” Scott startles. “What about mom? Is she doing okay without me?”

  
The Sheriff speaks up here from his position away from the bars. “She is doing as well as can be expected. She doesn’t know about werewolves or your real cause of death though.”

  
The other Stiles sighs, and leans into Derek’s side. Derek wraps an arm around him protectively and glares at Scott.

  
“There are a lot of things to talk about,” Deaton interrupted. “I can confirm that Scott is a werewolf, and I don’t see any reason to believe this Stiles is anything other than human. We need to find out how long they will be visiting us, and plan from there. I’m sure Melissa McCall will not enjoy accidentally running into her dead son without warning, but promising she can see him only for the spell to pull them away will be just as bad.”

  
“So you think this is time limited?” Derek asks.

  
Deaton smiles, “Yes I do. Family charms like this usually are, so the only thing we need to find out is how long this time limit will be. Where did you find this, Mr. Stilinsky?”

  
Stiles gazes off to the distance before realizing Deaton is talking to him. “Oh! This? I found it a few weeks ago going through my mom’s stuff in the attic.” He looks at his counterpart. “There were a lot of nice things there, but I felt drawn to wearing this. I think it belonged to my grandfather.”

  
“Also, “ Stiles continued, “how long are you planning to keep us in this cell? I’m getting cold here.” He glares at Derek, easily blaming the other Alpha.

  
Derek and the Stiles pressed into his side both smirk. “Give us the gun, and promise not to hurt our pack, and we’ll let you out.”

  
Stiles gapes at them. “Seriously?”

  
“Stiles,” Scott says to him, “just give the Sheriff back his gun. If this is an alternate universe and this Allison is anything like our Allison was, Derek won’t risk hurting you.” He sends a smile towards Allison with his words, getting a surprised nod in return.  
Stiles nearly pouted. “It’s the principle of the thing, Scott.”

  
Scott gives Stiles the look, the puppy dog look that always works no matter what.

  
”Urgh! Fine, here take the stupid thing.” Stiles walks to the bars and hands the gun back to the Sheriff. The Sheriff isn’t frowning now, but he does take the gun back with a look. “Happy now?” He glares at Derek.

  
He glares back. “Ecstatic.” The next moment, the cell door is open.


	2. Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Information dump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your support!

“So, what happened here in this timeline? This is completely different from where we came from.” Scott asks, looking straight at the wolf Stiles. His Stiles is pressed against his side.

They moved upstairs in what they learned is a rebuilt Hale house, and are sitting on a couch in the living room. The room is big, with lots of couches and pillows. There is no TV visible. The pack, the alternative universe pack made by Derek, are surrounding them. Erica and Boyd are on the loveseat to the side of them. Isaac is sitting in an armchair, with Allison perched on the arm. The other Stiles is sitting on the other couch, Derek standing behind him leaning against the wall.

The walls have smiling photos of this pack. Scott catches a glance of a small photo of himself at 14 in lacrosse gear hugging a younger Stiles. The other Stiles looks at the photo too.

“I caused your death. I showed up to your house and convinced you to look for a dead body with me. We got separated and somehow you got bit. My dad,” He gestures to kitchen where the Sheriff is making coffee, “found your body the next morning, and they ruled it an animal bite that triggered a severe asthma attack.” His Stiles whimpered a soft sound that only werewolves could hear. The werewolf version just looked sad. “After that, I shut down completely. I stopped doing school work, everything. I started wandering the woods.“

Derek spoke up. “He came onto my property. I told him to get off, but gave him Scott’s inhaler I found. He accused me of being a murderer and started to stalk me.” He looks fondly at Stiles, his eyebrows tilted up and his frown softening.

The other Stiles huffed. “You look like a murderer. Plus, you told me it was a rabid wolf, and I knew there were no wolves in California. But I started to research anyways. I became obsessed with the Hales and wolves. I stumbled across hunter records, and found out about the Argents. Well – guess who had started at my school around the same time as the animal attacks? Allison Argent.” He smiles at her, Allison dimpling back.

“I became more drawn into this conspiracy. I kept tabs on both Derek and the Argent family, got Danny to hook up some tech for me to track everyone. I stole all the police reports, charting out the animal attack victims. My dad nearly lost his mind, but he thought it was my way of grieving for Scott so he let me be.

“The next thing I noticed was Isaac.” He nodded towards the blond man. “He became an angry dick practically overnight. He was knocked into by some douches in the hallway and nearly wolfed out right there. At that point I realized what had happened and dragged him away. I asked if he had been attacked by an animal. He said yes.

“We went to Derek. He confirmed everything I suspected about werewolves. I asked for the bite at this point.”

Derek growled. “He didn’t care that I wasn’t an alpha. I told him about what was happening, with the alpha on the loose that had killed Laura, and Scott and all the other people. So Stiles said he would help me find and kill the alpha in return for the bite.”

“Scott being bit was my fault. I would live like Isaac, or die like Scott. I was hoping it would kill me.” Stiles laughs at this. His Stiles nods, in complete agreement. That twisted logic makes Scott look at both Stiles sadly - he never would’ve wanted his best friend to make a choice like that, based on his own experiences.

“So I poured myself into research, trying to find this alpha. The big break was when Kate Argent rolled into town.”

Allison spoke up. “She told me about werewolves. About the beasts and monsters under the bed being real and how it was our duty to destroy evil. How the animal attacks would not stop until a wolfsbane bullet was in the head of the monster. I turned a bit paranoid at this and noticed how Stiles always watched me. I confronted him and he accused my family of being murders as much as the rogue alpha was. I kicked his ass, and broke his arm. When it didn’t heal like my aunt said it would, I knew I made a mistake. I told my dad how I hurt a regular human by assuming he was a werewolf. My dad explained the code at that point and how we should watch and wait before rushing into action.”

“Having Allison on my side was great.” Stiles picks up the story again. “Between us, we figured out that Kate was the one who burnt down the Hale house. It wasn’t long before we realized there was one Hale who could still be causing this. Derek didn’t believe us at first but then Peter attacked. Long story short, Peter ended up being stuffed full of wolfsbane arrows and his throat ripped out by Derek.”

His Stiles looks around at everyone before making eye contact with his counterpart. “So this Derek became alpha, bit you like promised and created a pack?”

The other Stiles nods. “How about you?”

Scott laughs and shares a look with his Stiles. Scott can tell that there is more to the others story than that – their own retelling of the last few years wouldn’t be able to be summed up so quickly. “Well, Derek becoming the alpha after killing Peter is the same. But I wouldn’t call our Beacon Hills stable.” The smile on his face is strained.

His Stiles’ smile is just as fake. “I’ll sum up everything in ten words – death, lizards, resurrection, death, evil, death, resurrection, death and more death. Oh – and werewolves.”

“Oh well,” said Scott, “at least this timeline seems fairly stable in comparison. I guess I should apologize for not rejecting the bite.” Scott likes seeing Erica, Boyd and Allison alive. There seems to be less darkness in the room with them around.

Both Stiles make a choking sound in tandem. The other starts to flail his arms around while his Stiles punches him hard in the side. “What the hell Scott!? Shut up. Don’t you ever say shit like that again, my god. I’d be fucking lost without you, isn’t this proof? This Stiles willingly became a werewolf, which I won’t even think about doing even with having you as an awesome alpha! That is messed up. You are my best friend. All this proves is I’m a goddamn idiot who gets you into trouble, either by ruining your life or letting you die.” His Stiles gesticulated wildly as he spoke, the other Stiles nodding along in agreement.

Scott scoffs. “Stiles, no. You didn’t ruin my life, and this Stiles didn’t cause my death. Peter Hale is the cause in both those scenarios. And don’t even give me the spiel about how you dragged me out. I went willingly; I wanted to see a gross dead body. I was a stupid kid too.”

Both Stiles pout. “I’ll never believe that.”

“Bro, er… Bros.” Scott gestures to both Stiles’. “I love you and I don’t want you to feel guilty for my mistake. I’ve messed up so much more than you have.”

“Dude no! I love you, man. I keep fucking up, always. I’m sorry.”

Scott wraps his arm around his Stiles’ shoulder in comfort. Stiles’ broken voice is breaking his heart. He looks at the other Stiles, the one that has been without his best friend for years, who is just sitting in silence staring at them. He couldn’t imagine surviving without Stiles. After half a second of contemplation, he opens up his other arm in welcome. There is no hesitation before the werewolf moves and presses hard against Scott’s other side. Scott holds onto them both tightly.

Derek brakes the tender moment. “How are you an alpha, did you kill me?”

The other Stiles goes tense against Scott, waiting for his answer. Scott can feel his Stiles roll his eyes, a whole head movement against his other shoulder. Looks like this Derek is just as socially incompetent as theirs. Scott hopes his Derek is doing okay.

“I didn’t kill anyone to get these powers,” Scott tells them firmly. “I’m a True Alpha. I became an alpha after crossing a mountain ash line to save my friends.”

“Is Derek not in your pack then?” Allison asks from her perch.

Stiles looks up at Scott, who nods, before he answers her. “Yeah, Derek is in our pack. But he is a beta now. He lost his powers saving Cora’s life.”

Derek gapes at him and moves off the wall to stand closer. “Cora? My sister, Cora?” He growls.

“She’s alive, in our timeline at least. Down in South America with the pack that took her in after the fire, I don’t know the name of it though. Scott?”

Scott shook his head. He is still confused about the whole Cora thing. She was only around for a few weeks before leaving her brother. She was brought by Deucalion, so if there wasn’t Scott for him to collect as True Alpha, did he never come and bring her here? Where did that leave the nemeton? So many things can be different here, he thinks, staring over at the second Stiles.

The second Stiles sighs. “There are so many things different between these timelines.” He says, echoing Scott’s thoughts. “Let’s start with the simplest. What caused these burns, and why did you wish yourselves here?”

Stiles winces and shifts closer to Scott. “That isn’t the simplest situation to explain.” Stiles risks a quick glance at Derek before continuing. “We were trapped in a burning shack by a crazy witch who wants in our Derek’s pants.”

Derek blanches. The other Stiles is just as pale.

“Again? Are you serious?”

Stiles nods. “Derek has the worst luck, apparently. He ran into this lady at the gas station, and helped her fix a flat tire. Obviously, seeing Derek doing any type of mechanical manly man thing really flipped her switch, as it would with anyone. Except unlike others - who look, think and fantasize without acting on it – she started to stalk him.”

Derek looks completely horrified, and the other Stiles moves away from Scott and back to Derek’s side. He presses himself up against the other man. The ease that Derek allows him in speaks wildly to Scott’s imagination.

“She wanted Derek alone and vulnerable, without an alpha and without his… Stiles.” Scott shrugs, sympathetically eying the couple in this universe. He avoids using any titles to describe Stiles and Derek’s relationship from his time, glancing quickly over at his Stiles. Seeing at how touchy-feely the werewolf couple is, he guesses things have gone a little more smoothly for them.

“That’s what she did?” Derek demands, his eyebrows angrily twitching in his face. “The witch tried to burn you alive so she could be with me?”

A sudden horrifying thought overcame Stiles, as he ignored the pained demands of Derek. “She got what she wanted. Shit. Derek and the others are going to find the burned down shack with our scents just gone. What are they going to think, Scott? Derek is going to lose his mind, not to mention my dad or Kira. We need to find a way back to them, soon.”

The Sheriff spoke up, wandering into the room with his cup of coffee. “I’ll go home and see if I can find the bracelet the human Stiles is wearing, and give it to Deaton for him to research.”

Deaton nods back at the Sheriff. “I will come with you. I need to go back to my office anyways in order to examine it. If either of you start to feel strange or different, give me a call right away. Stiles felt pain and dizziness when you two were transported into this world, it may show up as a warning sign when you are about to leave us.”

 

 

\---

 

Stiles keeps looking at Scott, long after his father and Deaton left. His hair, his smile, his silly jawline – it hurts. It is amazing. Stiles doesn’t know what to think about this whole alternate/parallel universe mash up. He sees Scott though. Apparently, his Scott had potential to be this Scott, and he had the potential to be that Stiles. If a butterfly flaps its wings and all that.

He never would’ve imagined a place where Scott is an alpha, a True Alpha too, whatever that means. The Scott he knew was skinny, asthmatic and eager. This Scott is strong, a werewolf and eager. Plus, the other Stiles looks to Scott for guidance, leadership. His alpha. Stiles can’t imagine following anyone other than Derek. He also can’t imagine Derek following anyone not Derek. Apparently, Scott isn’t just his alpha in the other world – he is Derek’s too, plus others. A pack of their own. He wonders what it is like, being in a pack as a human. With Scott. Holy hell, Scott is alive and in the same room as him.

Stiles can feel the freak out itching under his skin. It was strange to watch his counterpart have a panic attack in the cell earlier. He had them when his mom died, when Scott died and right before being bitten. After the bite, the panic attacks turned into wolf-outs. Those are a lot easier to deal with as Derek just roars him back into control. But he won’t lose control. Not in front of Scott. He failed him enough.

The other Stiles breaks the tension. “Hey, do you wolves mind if I take a shower? I don’t have super senses and even I can smell myself.” It’s true, the smell of smoke, sweat and fear has Stiles’ nose twitching. It is weird to smell himself mixed in deeply with all those scents, not even coming from him.

Scott laughs a happy sound Stile hasn’t even dreamed about in years. His beaming smile hurts. “Yeah, we stink – you mind, Derek, if we borrow some towels and maybe some new clothes for Stiles?”

Derek looks at Stiles before grunting at them with narrowed eyes. “Shower together, do you?”

Stiles stares at his jealous alpha. For that matter, so do the counterparts. Of course, he can see how Derek jumps to that conclusion, peering at the others. Stiles and Scott have always been close, especially when they were younger. The fact that Scott being alive means that they sit closer than this Stiles sits with anyone who isn’t Derek. He remembers how him and Scott always used to touch and can see that the others never lost that habit.

The other Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times before he speaks to Scott. “Dude, I forgot what Derek was like before he learned to share.” He turns to Derek. “Scott isn’t going to shower with your Stiles unless there is enthusiastic consent from all parties. However, I enthusiastically give my consent forever and ever to Scott to wash my hard-to-reach places and protect my back while I’m vulnerable and naked in another wolves den.”

“Dude, I told you I’m not washing you there anymore. You farted on me last time.” Scott says.

“That’s what bros do.”The other Stiles smirks.

Everyone is stunned until Erica lets out a rich laugh.

The other Stiles smirk grows, glancing at Scott, Stiles and Derek in turn and then looking right at Erica and opening his mouth. But before he can say a word, Scott shakes his head. “Stiles, shut up. Let’s use the showers first, before you traumatize another Derek and your other self – plus poor Boyd doesn’t want to hear that.”

Boyd just nods.

The other Stiles pouts. “You don’t know what I was going to say, Scott!”

“Yes I did. Come on, let’s go get clean.” Scott smiles at Erica before asking her to lead them up the stairs to the bathroom, ignoring Derek’s scowl.

Stiles watches them go. He has no idea what just happened. What about him and Derek, were they not a couple in the other universe? Why would the witch specifically want to burn the other Stiles to get at Derek if that’s not the case?

Stiles looks at his Derek and frowns. He reaches out and wraps himself into his alpha’s arms. Scott or no Scott, Stiles knows he loves his Derek and he hopes Derek knows it too. Even his dead best friend coming for a visit to his universe isn’t going to change that. Derek hugs him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Credit where credit is due. Inspired by Teen Wolf and the multiple amazing alternate/parallel universe stories, many of which are on a way higher level than this. The biggest inspiration is "If the ley lines you should follow" by InTheArmsofaThief.


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